


The Astonishing Light of Your Own Being

by stjarna



Series: Engineering vs Biochem - 2017 (Team Engineering) [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with smut, F/M, NSFW, Post S4, Prompt: Comfort, Prompt: Sex in space, S5 spec, Smut, Spacestation, angst with hopeful ending, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 11:10:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11622339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stjarna/pseuds/stjarna
Summary: A post-season-4 spec fic set in space. Angst with smut.Written forFanwork Friday (@thefitzsimmonsnetwork)andFitzsimmons Summer SmutathonPrompt for Fanwork Friday: ComfortPrompt for Fitzsimmons Summer Smutathon: Fitzsimmons sexy time in space





	The Astonishing Light of Your Own Being

**Author's Note:**

> Big thank you to @dilkirani for being my beta. Smut is still something I'm nervous about writing, so I'm grateful she's there to lend me her support.
> 
> Banner by me (I'm really proud of this one)

* * *

* * *

 

> _“I wish I could show you when you are lonely or in darkness the astonishing light of your own being.”_
> 
> _― **Hafez of Shiraz**_

* * *

* * *

Jemma wanders down the empty corridor of the space station towards her bunk, while her mind meanders from one part of her day to the next.

They’d ended up screaming at each other again. It had become such a strange routine. He’d come to the lab to assist someone with a technical issue and then one thing would lead to another and lead to another, until arms were gesturing wildly, and faces were inches apart, and voices were loud and blaring while everyone else around them fell silent, presumably wishing they hadn’t been assigned to the same shift as them.

This time, they hadn’t stopped until one of the guards had stepped in. Fitz had thrown his hands in the air, turned around and had left with fast-paced steps, while Jemma had clenched her jaw, closing her eyes, trying to calm herself, trying to fight the tears that had dared break the surface.

During dinner, they’d sat about as far apart as possible, occasionally glancing at each other only to quickly look away again. Jemma had kept her eyes on her plate for the most part, the strange assortment of almost unidentifiable food in front of her easier to bear than the way he stared at her. Daisy’s knowing eyes had burned a hole into Jemma’s soul, but her friend thankfully kept her thoughts and worries to herself, her presence nonetheless offering a bit of comfort for Jemma’s aching heart.

Jemma’s stomach churns at the memories as she forces her feet to move step by step back to her empty bunk, void of warmth, void of love, void of laughter, void of everything.

It doesn’t feel right. The fighting. The yelling. The silence filled with tension. The distance between them. It’s not how it’s supposed to be.

Jemma stops in her tracks, her eyes wandering up to the security camera. She squints, noticing how the usually green blinking light next to the camera is switched off. Slowly, she turns her head, glancing over her shoulder only to see that she’s completely alone in the hallway.

Her heart starts beating frantically and her eyes fixate on the door to a supply closet to her left. She takes a step closer, carefully opening the door and slipping inside.

She barely manages to close the door behind her before his hands cup her face and his lips crash against her. The force of his kiss pushes her back against the metal door, the door knob uncomfortably pressing against her spine. A surprised gasp escapes her lips, while her hands reach up to allow her fingers to roam through his curls.

She tilts her head slightly, moaning as his tongue pushes against her mouth, demanding entry. The kiss is messy, urgent, filled with desperation and longing. Jemma can barely breathe and yet she doesn’t care. She cranes her neck, pushing his head lower and groaning when his hungry lips begin sucking on the pulse point below her ear.

Fitz whispers her name and the vibration of his voice against her tender skin sends a shiver down her spine. She hears her name again and again and knows that she’s calling out his just as desperately, although she’s not sure if she says it aloud. Each syllable is laced with love and softness as if to make up for every time their names had been spoken with harshness during the day when the eyes of their captors were hovering over them.

Jemma’s hands glide across his shoulders, down his back, and she pulls him closer by the hips, feeling his erection against her thigh. She squeezes her hands between their bodies, fidgeting with his belt, until she manages to undo it. Quickly, she unzips his trousers and pushes them down together with his boxers, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of his arse. He lets out a deep groan and the sound vibrates against the sensitive skin of her neck, where his lips are still nipping and kissing her eagerly.

Fitz’s hands move to her blouse and Jemma can feel his fingers tremble as they unbutton it. His hand glides up to her shoulder, and he pulls the strap of her bra down, moving to kiss her collarbone. Jemma closes her eyes, drinking in the sensation of his lips on her skin, his body pressed against hers. He pulls her bra down further, exposing one of her breasts and cupping it with his palm. His thumb gently glides across her nipple, causing Jemma’s breath to hitch as his name escapes her lips once more, a plea to continue and never stop. He sucks her nipple into his mouth, circling it with his tongue, and Jemma feels her knees weaken.

His mouth finds hers again, their tongues dancing wildly, while his palm massages her breast. Jemma curls her hands around his neck, keeping his lips close, while Fitz’s fingers move lower, opening the button of her trousers and unzipping it while Jemma kicks off her shoes. Fitz frees himself from Jemma’s embrace, lowering himself to his knees to push her trousers and panties all the way off. His hand glides up the inside of her leg as he stands back up.

Jemma moans when his palm presses against her hot, wet center. She spreads her legs a little wider, gasping when he slides first one, then two fingers inside of her, his thumb shifting slightly to rub against her clit. She wraps her arms around his neck again, burying her head in the nook of his shoulder, trying desperately to find balance.

But the harder he pumps his fingers in and out, the harder it becomes for Jemma to stand. She feels her knees buckle and lets herself slide down. Fitz wraps his free arm around her, guiding her down the smooth surface of the door. The cold metal is a welcoming sensation compared to the heat surging through her body.

She reaches the hard floor of the supply closet, and Fitz shifts her so she can lay down on her back, his fingers somehow still buried inside of her. He begins once again to kiss his way down to her exposed breast, but Jemma grabs him by the base of his skull, gently pulling him up.

He removes his hand, moving so that he kneels between her legs. He stares at her hungrily, his chest heaving with ragged breaths as he lowers himself to kiss her. Jemma curls her hands around his neck, tilting her head to deepen the kiss while her legs wrap around his hips, pulling his erection closer to her burning center.

His hand slides between their bodies and he guides his cock to her entrance, pushing first gently and then with a deep thrust to enter her fully. Jemma buries her lips against his neck, trying to suppress a moan as his hips drive faster and faster against her, until she crashes over her climax, feeling her muscles tense around him. It only takes him a few more fervent thrusts until he comes himself, collapsing on top of her, his breath short and frantic.

Jemma tries to catch her breath, her hands still roaming across his shirt, which they hadn’t bothered to take off, back up to his neck, where sweat has been gathering, leaving his curls wet.

Jemma feels Fitz’s lips gently brush against her neck, and somehow the soft sensation opens a floodgate of tears. She wraps her arms tighter around Fitz’s shoulders, trying to eliminate whatever minimal space had been left between their bodies. She can feel him trying to push himself up, hears him muttering her name, his voice muffled from having his head buried in her hair.

“I miss you,” Jemma whispers into his ear. “I miss you so much, Fitz.”

She tries to stop him, but somehow he frees himself from her embrace, pushing himself up on his elbows. He brushes away the hair clinging to her forehead, and Jemma notices tears in his eyes, as his thumb gently wipes away the ones flowing down her temple.

“I know,” he replies, his voice hoarse and wavering. “I know. I miss you, too, Jemma. I miss you, too. And I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the fighting, and being separated from you, and not being able to talk to you or even look at you, but… but they’d use it against us, Jemma. You know they’d use it against us if they knew… if they knew that we’re still… that we never—”

“I know.” Her breath hitches, trying to stop from sobbing. “I know. It was my idea, remember?”

A pained smile flashes across his face and he nods. “Yeah. Yeah, it was, ‘cause you’re bloody brilliant.”

Jemma can’t help but chuckle through her sorrow. She reaches up to wipe away her tears, only to feel a new wave pushing to the surface.

“But it hurts. It hurts so much.” She shakes her head ever so slightly. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take, Fitz. I hate treating you this way out there. I hate—”

His lips press into a thin line, before he leans down to kiss her softly. He sniffles, his trembling fingers tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I know. It hurts me too, Jemma. And I hate it! Believe me. I don’t want to fight—no matter how pretend it is. I don’t want to yell. I don’t want to be apart. I don’t want to—”

The corners of his mouth pull into a forced smile, before he exhales a shaky breath. He cups her cheeks with both hands, his blue eyes gazing at her with such intensity that it makes Jemma’s stomach flutter.

“But we’ll get out of here, Jemma. We’ll get out of here soon. We’re working on it. All of us. Together. And then, we’ll go home. We’ll go back to Earth and then we’ll leave all of this behind. S.H.I.E.L.D., Hydra, AIM. I don’t care. They can all kiss the Scottish arse you love so much.”

She laughs out loud and is rewarded with a far more genuinely happy smile from him.

“We will leave it all behind, Jemma,” he adds, his voice soft and quiet as his fingers play with her hair. “And we’ll be selfish and do whatever we want, and go wherever we want, and start our life together, just us, no more save-the-world situations, no more secret lives, no more putting our lives at risk. Just us. Together. Happy.”

Jemma’s lips twitch, wanting to smile and yet not daring to be that hopeful. “In Perthshire?”

A puff of air escapes his nose, while the corners of his mouth tick up just barely. “On the bloody North Pole if you want. I don’t care.”

Jemma chuckles weakly, gazing into his piercing blue eyes, as her hand reaches up to comb through his hair.

“But Perthshire would be nice,” Fitz adds quietly.

Jemma swallows, pressing her lips into a thin line, forcing a sad smile. “One day?”

He nods, wetting his lips, before leaning down to softly press his lips against hers. “One day. Soon.”

Jemma nods in agreement, feeling her body relax some more. She closes her eyes and for a moment allows herself to envision the future he’d been painting for her in the most vivid colors whenever they met like this, in secret, in one supply closet or another. For a moment, she allows herself to draw comfort from his words.

“You should go,” Fitz says barely above a whisper, his fingers absentmindedly caressing her cheek.

Jemma shuts her eyes a bit more tightly, trying desperately to hold onto the happy image of her and Fitz in Scotland, before letting out a sorrowful breath and opening her eyes, unable to hide the sadness filling her mind as she is pulled back to their harsh reality.

“I know,” she replies quietly, blinking away tears.

Fitz gets up and Jemma feels a cold chill rush over her body when she loses the warmth of his skin on hers. She shivers, before sitting up, her eyes scanning the small room until she catches sight of her trousers and panties as well as her shoes.

She dresses herself, while Fitz pulls his boxers and trousers back up, closing his belt buckle, before tucking his shirt in and adjusting the fit.

He smiles at her, almost shyly, and Jemma steps closer, her palm cupping his cheek, as she leans in to press a soft kiss against his lips. She holds his gaze, before quietly whispering a love confession.

The corners of his mouth tick up, and his fingers trace her hairline. “I love you, too.”

He sighs, forcing his eyes away from hers to look at his watch. He slides across the small screen and enters the command to turn off the security camera outside the supply closet, before looking back at her, his eyes filled with sadness. “You got one minute.”

Jemma nods, forcing a smile. She sighs, leaning in for one more kiss. She inhales while their lips gently move against each other as if it would allow her to breathe in a piece of his soul and carry it with her.

She rests her palm against his cheek for a moment longer, before quickly opening the door and slipping back into the empty hallway. She pulls the door shut, forcing her hand to let go of the knob, before her mind can attempt to convince her to stay longer.

She exhales, letting her hands glide over her blouse to iron out any wrinkles, and heads down the hallway towards her bunk with energetic steps.

 _One day_ , she thinks. _One day soon._


End file.
